Tired

I get so tired of waiting for the next big bad thing to happen. No bogus CPS report filed lately? No life threatening illness? No police at my door? No identity theft? No gas leak? I start getting anxious about the house catching fire. I expect it now. I’m always on edge, because I know whatever it is, it’s going to hit hard and I’m going to have to deal with it alone.

I suppose that’s why I don’t try too hard for the things I want. I don’t want to be caught off guard. I don’t want to give in to hope, because I know that has always led to pain. I know that this has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I know I have to stop living like this. I just don’t know how.

And it lessens me, right? I’ve forgotten how to interact with others. I sit here thinking, “why the fuck should I care about what you’ve eaten today or your opinions on different sodas? Why should I answer questions about these mundane parts of my life that have nothing to do with you? Why are we talking at all? How am I supposed to waste time with someone who cares about such pointless things when I have to constantly struggle to keep my entire life from falling down around me?”

But… I always asked what people were eating. I’ve always been happy to rant about what sodas were better than others (or any other silly subject). I’ve never had a problem talking excitedly about the mundane, bringing life to it as if a late-night drama. I’ve always been the one who gave meaning to the “pointless.” That’s who I am, when not suffocated by stress.

I’m just so tired.

So when am I going to breathe the life back into myself? Because that’s the real crisis, isn’t it? I was the one who would take risks, hoard hope, and just fucking

GO FOR IT

But I lost that along the way and that’s the saddest thing of all. If I’m surviving just to survive, what’s the point in existing? It’s time to

LIVE

I miss that. I want it back. I’m going to make it happen.

Watch me.